Long Road to Happiness
by LostInLost18
Summary: AU. Tragedy strikes the happy family of Charlie, Claire and Aaron, leaving one of them heartbroken. Left with only Aaron, Charlie tries to get on with his life until something happens that threatens his happiness for good. Full summary inside.
1. We Once Had the World

_Long Road to Happiness

* * *

_________________

_Summary: - Claire and Charlie get off the island and start to become a proper family. That is, until the unthinkable happens and Claire dies, leaving a heartbroken Charlie to pick up the pieces and raise Aaron alone. But things go from bad to worse when someone from Claire's life threatens to take Aaron away, until a mysterious knock on the door reunites him with an old friend, an old friend who might just have the right amount of cunning, logic and twisted sort of wisdom to help him._

_A/n: Not sure if this will turn into a slash story. I personally don't mind slash, but it has to be written well and has to be more than just a rampant sex story, so for now it's going to be perfectly platonic. _

Chapter 1: We Once Had the World

Charlie woke to the sound of Aaron crying, which wasn't so unusual except he woke with dry eyes for once. He sat up slowly, automatically reaching out for a presence that wasn't there, before remembering himself and peeling the covers off.

He wearily climbed out of the bed, and immediately walked into the bedside lamp Claire had invested in, after nights and nights of arguing over whose turn it was to turn off the light. Problem was, the lamp had caused even more arguments, as he'd found it tacky and bulky, not something which could slide neatly into a corner and no more would be said about it. She'd disagreed, of course, arguing that they couldn't afford to be picky about these things and that, if he hated it so much, he should go out and get a proper job so they could afford better things.

At the time, he'd resented the fact she'd implicated he wasn't doing enough to support them. Now, every argument made sense to him, in a way it hadn't before.

He was a single father, to a child who wasn't even biologically his, and he found that every day was a struggle, a fight to keep his sanity alive and intact. He wasn't going to pretend it was easy, that raising a child on his own, whose eyes were so much like hers it was unreal, was something he particularly relished. But he hadn't the time, or the effort, to complain about it. He loved Aaron, and that was all there was to it.

Charlie stumbled down the corridor in nothing but his boxers, still marvelling (and worrying) at the fact he'd woken up with dry eyes. It wasn't that he particularly missed waking up in tears, but he was worried that it meant he was getting over Claire and he didn't want to get over her. He didn't want to let this feeling, this love, escape from him, even though _she_ had. It was the only thing, barring Aaron, of hers he had left.

He walked into Aaron's room - all the while trying to ignore the memory of him and Claire decorating this room - and picked up the infant, yawning loudly which, somehow, turned the infant's bawling into laughing.

"You're a weird little man," he informed the now giggling child. "But I love you. It's just you and me now, kiddo."

He rocked the infant gently, feeling a wave of crushing sadness washing over him. He wondered whether this would get any easier, whether her loss would stop physically tearing at him like claws of a beast. Aaron looked like her in so many ways already, and he was only an infant.

Aaron stared up into his eyes and he felt that small tug at his heartstrings, the sort of tug which seemed to be a strange blend of pride and sorrow. Sorrow, for the woman he'd loved and lost.

He glanced at his watch - it was three in the morning. What little sleep he seemed to be getting these days had been destroyed for the night. Once he was up, he usually couldn't get back to sleep, which was a habit he'd inherited from his mum. He remembered watching her, when he knew she wasn't looking, pacing up and down along the cold, wooden floor of the living room, and it was how he'd learned to tell when she was anxious or stressed, seeing how she rarely showed it in front of him and Liam.

"Let's get you some food," Charlie murmured to a now fidgety Aaron. "Suspect you didn't wake me up just for my company, eh?"

Aaron babbled some nonsense in his direction, which Charlie took as a no, and then carefully carried Aaron down the stairs, into the kitchen. His bare feet jumped a little at the contact with the cold, tiled floor but he was used to it. He'd grown up in an environment close to poverty, after all.

As he prepared the infant's bottle of milk, Charlie reflected on his and Claire's brief, but certainly real, relationship. He'd been surprised at her decision to allow him to stay in her life, having been certain that she would've abided by the "what happens on the island, stays on the island" rule everyone else seemed to have followed. Other relationships, like Jack and Kate's had disintegrated as soon as they'd stepped onto dry land, for one reason or another, and nobody seemed to have wanted to be reminded of the events which had dominated their lives for over three months.

He hadn't heard from any of them since the brief press conference they'd all had to attend, except he did receive the odd call from Hurley and, out of respect and love for his friends, he'd attended the memorial service for those who hadn't made it. Claire had been tending after a sick Aaron at the time, but had urged him to go. He'd said a few words about Ana, not just because no one else seemed to want to do it, but because he'd spent a few hours with her, admittedly only using the time to rile her up, and felt like he owed it to her to at least say _something_. Hurley had spoken about Libby, Jack about Boone, Sayid about Shannon and so on.

Charlie watched Aaron's lips fold around the teat of the bottle as it was presented to him, allowing a small smile to show as he watched the infant feed. The suckling noises almost made him chuckle - and, boy, could that child guzzle down his food! - and he relished the joy he felt, knowing that soon it would be dawn, and the dawn was the signal for the start of another lonely day.

When Aaron had finished, he stretched his arms out and snuggled into Charlie's chest, his little hands grasping at his shirt as if searching for comfort there. In reality, Charlie should've been proud of this moment, but he felt empty. _Claire should be where I am, _was all he could think. She should've been cherishing the moment, not him, and he just felt incredibly guilty; sometimes so much that he couldn't even look at the infant without feeling sick to his very stomach.

When Aaron started to fuss, Charlie began singing softly to him, silently willing him to fall back to sleep so that he could at least rest a bit longer. Being a full time parent was hard. He couldn't work, and had to rely on the Oceanic settlement, which was dwindling every day. Claire had been reluctant to take it at first, insisting that they didn't need it and that other people in her situation didn't get this kind of help so why should she, resulting him in gently reminding her that they, unlike other people, had been in a plane crash. He'd taken the money on her behalf, setting up two accounts and dividing the money before putting each bit into the accounts. One account was Aaron's, and therefore wasn't to be touched by either of them unless they were putting in more money. The other was for them, only to be used in dire emergencies.

To this effect, Charlie had been alternatively busking and playing in small, low-key clubs for simple cash. He wasn't looking to revive his music career again. Whilst Claire hadn't agreed with this, she did understand there was a personal element to him doing this and she loved him too much to make him quit.

"Oh, Aaron," Charlie sighed, gazing down at the infant with deep affection. "I do miss your mum."

Aaron grabbed his finger, as if to say _I miss her too_, and then curled up closer against his chest, gurgling quietly to himself.

* * *

When morning announced its presence, Charlie stared blearily around, his face haggard and worn by exhaustion and grief. He was a far cry from the cheerful, youthful, boisterous looking man he'd been on the island.

To be fair though, a lot had changed.

He bounced Aaron around for a bit, though the gesture felt and looked monotonous, and then allowed him to play with the vast amount of toys his grandmother had sent him, sticking the television on just for a break from the monotony of it all.

He'd thought about hiring a nanny, or a babysitter, just so he could get up off his arse and actually do something. But he quickly realized there was no one he trusted enough to look after him. He'd tried calling Jack a few times, once he knew he was in Australia of course, but had never managed to get through, and quickly realized Jack was either immersed with grief, or he just wanted to disassociate himself from everything that was even remotely connected to the island.

He couldn't, in good faith, entirely blame him for that.

Charlie watched Aaron pick up a teddy, gurgling happily as he pulled it into a hug, and pondered whether he was advanced enough to be able to do that. Claire would've known the answer, he thought to himself gloomily. She might've bickered and yelled at him for being a smart arse when it came to handling her son, but she knew him in ways Charlie could never understand. Mothers and infants always hold a connection that no one else can relate to, or understand, unless they're a parent themselves.

Not being a proper parent, he could only muse over why Aaron had bonded well with him.

Charlie changed channels as the programme he was watching - some dull Australian soap - finished, locating the news just in time to see Kate on it. Her long and arduous trial was over, and there had been a strange compromise on the sentence. She had to serve time in jail for her crime but, in light of recent circumstances - meaning the plane crash - the judge decreed she serve a maximum of seven years in prison. Any more would be considered too harsh, any less would be considered too lenient.

He leaned forward, eager to see her again. She looked as worn as he did, her face pale and haggard, every inch of her revealing her dread and fear of prison. He felt for her, because he too was suffering in a prison, albeit one that was much more comfortable than hers.

The doorbell rang, and this sudden change in routine startled him. Charlie's eyes flew to the door, and he scooped up Aaron quickly, before scurrying down the corridor to greet this mysterious stranger.

He opened the door - jumping slightly at the loud creaking noise it made, which had never been fixed despite the countless times Claire had asked him to do it - and stared with astonishment at who it was.

"Well, howdy, there Mr Mom," a familiar voice drawled.

Charlie blinked once, twice, and then a third time just to be sure. He searched his brain for any trace of logic which would explain this strange event. He then tried to conjure up any scenario, no matter how strange, which would bring this familiar person to his door, and failed.

Try as he did, he couldn't think of a single rational, or irrational, reason why Sawyer was at his door.

"S-Sawyer?" he stuttered, blinking rapidly. "What are you doing here? How did you find this address?"

"Ain't many Littletons listed in the phonebook," Sawyer replied, his familiar cocky grin taking centre stage on his face. "There were, however, two, C. Littletons and I just flipped to pick which one I was gonna harass. I got the mama, as it turns out, and she were kind enough to give me your address. You know, once I told her the charmin' story of how we met." The cocky grin, if possible, widened.

"Why are you here?" Charlie asked quietly. "Last I heard, you were in Mexico."

"That's right, Hosse," Sawyer replied, raising an eyebrow as if surprised by how much Charlie knew about his whereabouts. "Went there for a while to cool my heels. This good nation ain't too fond of me, you understand. Used my money from Oceanic to buy a nice little property out there. I'm just here on my holiday. While I was in the neighbourhood, thought I'd see how you and Mamacita were doin'."

"How touching," Charlie said sarcastically. "Suppose you better come in."

He allowed the southerner to saunter in, whispering an agitated apology to Aaron before following suit.

"Where is she anyway?" Sawyer asked, settling himself on the couch. "Claire? S'pose you best go and warn her I'm here."

"I could," Charlie said casually, sitting down on the neighbouring chair. "If she were alive."

It was almost worth reiterating that painful piece of news, if only to see the look on Sawyer's face. His expressions changed from shock to bewilderment to more shock. Charlie put Aaron in his playpen, folded his arms, and waited for words to come to his guest.

"She - She's dead?" Sawyer managed to get out.

Charlie nodded, his eyes tightening marginally.

"How long?"

"Just under a month," Charlie replied dully.

"How?" Sawyer looked bewildered, as if he couldn't comprehend it.

"Car crash," Charlie replied quietly. "She was driving to her mother's to pick up Aaron when she was hit head on by a truck. Her car flipped and that was it."

He suspected all Sawyer needed to know was how she'd died. He'd given more detail than was necessary, only to iterate that it wasn't Claire's fault. A car accident wasn't specific enough for people to know. There was, however, one bit of the story he'd deliberately left out, because it still hurt to think about it.

"I'm…I'm sorry," Sawyer muttered, still looking pretty shocked.

"I get that a lot," Charlie replied lightly, picking Aaron up for no other reason than the fact he just needed to have him inside his arms.

"So, you've jus' been livin' here with the squirt by yourself? Who looks after him when you go work?" were Sawyer's next questions.

"I don't work," Charlie admitted. "I don't trust anyone enough to look after him. What work I did before, I've had to put on hold so I can look after him."

"Doesn't his grandma do nothing?"

Charlie bit his lip. "She does what she can," he hedged. "But I don't want to disturb her too much. I might have lost the love of my life, but she lost a daughter. If I'm a pathetic mess, I don't wanna think about what she's going through."

Sawyer shook his head, evidently at a loss of words. He took time to study the room he was sitting in, noticing it seemed to reflect on its owner in the sense it was a mess. Coffee mugs and empty bottles littered the floor, as well as the odd tissue. There was a musty smell to the room, and the curtains were closed, so the whole area was dark. It was a depressing sight.

"Why are you really here, Sawyer?" Charlie suddenly asked, remembering the ex-conman didn't do courtesy calls. In fact, did he even do nice? Probably not.

"I wanted to know if you'd heard from her…" Sawyer seemed to hesitate, which was unlike him. "I've made a point of not watchin' the news. Has she - ?"

"She's in jail," Charlie replied heavily. "Seven years, from what I've heard. With good behaviour, she could be out sooner…"

"Good behaviour…" Sawyer shook his head. "She don't deserve to be there. It's not fair."

"A lot of things aren't fair," Charlie snapped, his voice wobbling. "If things were fair, do you think I'd be here, raising her son alone? He's a fantastic little boy, and I love him, but he needs his _mum_. Not me."

An awkward silence followed his short outburst. He wasn't sorry for it, although he was sorry Sawyer had to bear the brunt of it… Actually, he wasn't really sorry about that either. What he was sorry about was the future of this little boy, who would grow up never knowing his mother. Charlie's own mother had succumbed to death when he was barely into his teens, and he remembered how much it had physically crippled him, so maybe it was good that Aaron was too young to know that kind of pain.

"Lemme ask ya something, Chief," Sawyer suddenly began, leaning forward and looking unnervingly concerned. "You talked to anyone - _anyone_ - since it happened?"

"Only her mother," he confessed. "And only when I have to give her Aaron."

He liked her mother, yet sensed she didn't entirely trust him. She always seemed relieved when he brought Aaron over, as if she half expected him to lose him. He was used to people having a lack of faith in him, so it didn't deter him from trying to connect to her. He was trying, if he was brutally honest with himself, to connect to the people in Claire's life, knowing he couldn't just 'get over her' like that.

"Does anyone of…them…know she's - ?"

"I told Hurley," Charlie said quietly. "He probably spread it around a bit. But no one really came, except Jack."

That was the main reason he no longer had any desire to speak to any of his former companions. The fact that none of them showed up, even after Hurley had informed him he'd told everyone, had hurt him a lot. He'd got the odd phone call afterwards, apologizing for not being able to come and expressing their deepest sympathies for his loss, but it wasn't good enough. He'd been sure they'd all been tighter than that, but evidently not.

That's when he'd really started cutting himself off from the world. He only accepted the odd call from Liam, or Hurley, and that was about it. Gradually, people stopped calling, stopped writing, stopped caring, it seemed. And he'd dealt with it, as best he'd could.

"So, you jus' been lookin' after baby Huey? All by yourself?" Sawyer asked critically. "Judgin' by the state of ya, I'd guess that's goin' real swell."

"It's not easy, no," Charlie said defensively. "But I love him and he loves me. I'm all he has now."

"Sure that ain't the other way round, Chief?" Sawyer enquired, pursing his lips together as he scrutinised the Briton carefully.

Charlie sighed loudly, pressing his lips together firmly to avoid shouting at him. He was messed up, true, but he knew that the bond he had with Aaron was not just one sided. Anyone who thought so had clearly not paid enough attention, for he was rarely without the little boy; even on the island, there'd rarely been a day when he'd not visited Claire and Aaron, the sight of the little tent causing his heart to explode with excitement and joy.

"You came here for selfish reasons, Sawyer - I get it," he said, shifting the baby slightly, so that they were both comfortable. "Don't pretend to be interested in me or the baby. What's done is done," he added.

Yet his mind couldn't help going back to the day they'd finally reached home, the day their troubles, it had seemed, were finally over.

* * *

_The helicopters had come: one by one, they'd landed on the beach, escorting the survivors onto a nearby cargo ship which, they'd been shocked to learn, had only been a hundred miles away from civilisation. Where they'd come from, no one had known, but they were grateful for them all the same. _

"_Where's Charlie?" Claire screamed, the noise of the helicopter taking away the first group of survivors drowning out her voice._

"_He'll be here, Claire," Jack yelled, searching the ocean for any signs of Desmond and Charlie's return. "But you're on the next helicopter out of here."_

"_I'm not leaving without him!" she insisted, clutching Aaron close to her chest, trying to cover his ears. _

"_Yes, you are!" Jack insisted, storming up to her. "I'll make sure he gets on."_

_She protested for a good few minutes - bringing up the point that that argument hadn't stopped Rose from staying with Jack in Titanic - before reluctantly - and somewhat despondently - allowing Sawyer and Sayid to escort her to the helicopter. She desperately tried to look for him before the helicopter had raised itself into the air, but there'd been no sign of him and, secretly, she'd allowed a few tears of worry and fear to escape. _

_Once the helicopter had landed, she watched every trip bring back survivors which hadn't included Charlie, and became increasingly frustrated and worried that he wasn't coming back. Everyone else was too involved in rejoicing and celebrating to notice their number was down by one - maybe for forever. _

_The last helicopter landed, and Jack jumped out, rushing straight to Kate's side to hug her. Following him, Sawyer and Sayid jumped out, presumably after making sure everyone else had boarded, and shook hands briefly, the former enemies sharing a weary smile which had seemed to say _it's over at last.

_Desmond jumped out next, suspiciously avoiding her eyes, before a soaking wet, but wrapped up, Charlie had joined him._

"_Charlie!" she shrieked, bundling Aaron into Sun's arms before racing up and throwing her arms around his neck. _

"_Easy love," he chuckled, after the initial shock. "I told you I would see you soon. No need to overreact."_

"_Yes there is," she informed him, faintly annoyed at how easily he could dismiss things like this. "You could've been killed."_

"_But -"_

"_You could've been killed. Yes or no?" she repeated, glaring at him._

_He shrugged. _

"_It was a possibility," he admitted. "But I'm alive, aren't I?"_

"_Not. The. Point!" she growled. "You are an idiot. Yes or no?"_

"_Claire -" _

"_Yes or no?" _

"_Yes," he reluctantly admitted. "I'm the biggest idiot in the world for leaving you. But I had to do it, Claire. And wasn't it all worth it? Well?"_

_Claire fidgeted uncomfortably. "Well -"_

"_Yes or no?" he teased, leaning in to kiss her lips. _

"_Sort of," she conceded. "And that's the best you're gonna get," she added. _

_Charlie chuckled, throwing an arm around her. _

"_Oh, I missed you," he said, sighing heavily. "I don't want to do this."_

"_Do what?" she asked, looking suspicious at once. _

"_Leave you," he said sadly. "We are going our separate ways…aren't we?"_

_She stepped back, looking visibly alarmed. _

"_What?" she demanded. "Are you - Are you breaking up with me?"_

"_That depends on whether you're breaking up with me?" Charlie looked upset. "I thought after this, when we were rescued, you'd leave me." He shifted on the spot, avoiding her eyes. "I was preparing myself for the news all the way here." _

"_You're an even bigger idiot than I originally thought," Claire informed him, grinning softly at him. "What we had - have - was way more than just some jungle hook up. You mean a lot to me, Charlie," she added softly. "A lot."_

_He grinned. "Really?"_

"_Yes." She nodded, as if that affirmed it. "Whatever future I may have, I want you to be in it. So…yes or no?"_

"_Yes. Yes. Yes!" he laughed. "I could never refuse you, Claire."_

_They kissed to seal the deal, and, afterwards, they pulled back to laugh with joy at where they were, where they had been, and what the future now held for them. _

* * *

Charlie awoke from the memory, just as disorientated as if the memory had been a dream. There were certainly days when his life with Claire felt like a dream. But he had in his arms living proof that they were real.

"Guess I better be off, then," Sawyer suddenly said, looking uncharacteristically uncomfortable. "S'not my place to judge."

Charlie nodded wearily and didn't bother showing him out. When he'd heard the door close, he pressed his face against Aaron and sobbed weakly, wondering if this heavy weight on his heart would ever lighten, even just a fraction.

* * *

A/n: And that's chapter one! Review and read please! I know not a lot has happened really but this is just the opening chapter! God, I sound desperate. Ignore me, lol.


	2. All the Right Reasons

Chapter 2: All the Right Reasons

* * *

There were three strange things about that particular morning which made Charlie wonder if today was going to be one of those unusually good days. Those sort of days, for him, came far and few between. He usually just grasped the good moments he did receive, and took the bad moments on the chin, reminding himself things could be a hell of a lot worse.

The first event came with the morning post. Juggling Aaron, he reached for the small pile and then put the infant in his playpen as he sat down to flick through what surely had to be nothing more than a pile of bills he couldn't afford to pay. Some were. There were bills for appliances he didn't even realize he'd been using, as well as a not too kind sounding letter from the landlord. With each one, he became steadily more depressed, wondering if life was just kicking him in the balls for the hell of it now. Then, an odd looking one caught his attention. The address was handwritten, although the quality of the writing was poor, as though written in a rough environment, perhaps in terrible weather.

Curiously, Charlie opened the envelope, which spat out a yellow looking piece of paper which seemed to possess damp patches on it, which seemed to confirm his theory about it being written in terrible weather. He began to read, his heart wrenching with each word he absorbed.

_Charlie, _

_I appreciate you might be angry with me for not maintaining contact with you. As you can imagine, my life is far from perfect at the moment but I heard what happened to Claire, and it sort of put a lot of things into perspective for me. I am so sorry, Charlie. Losing the one you love can't be easy and I imagine it's not just emotional difficulties you are experiencing. _

_Whether they wanted to or not, Oceanic had to give me a settlement which, naturally, I wasn't allowed to have by state law. During a meeting with the prison governor, I thought long and hard about what to do with the money. And then I thought of you and Aaron. I've set up a special account for the two of you, which I've instructed my bank to send you a letter about. I saved a little for myself, for when I get out, but the rest is yours. Consider it a thank you gift for being the one to get us all rescued, and my way of trying to help, something I know Claire would've wanted. _

_I've had the occasional letter from Hurley, and Jack comes to visit sometimes. Every other week in fact. I know what it's like to feel alone, cut off from the world. I just want you to know I'm here for you. I know I'm probably not the only one who thinks maybe getting rescued wasn't the best thing that ever happened, but we have to deal with what happened. It hit me one day how many people I cared about on that island, and I barely knew them. After Jack, you were the first friend I made and I didn't even know your last name. In fact, I found it out by someone in my cell block who, oddly enough, is a massive fan of yours. Weird, huh? Seems like only yesterday I asked you where I knew you from and you told me about your band. _

_Anyway, I'm not a letter writing type of girl. But you know that. I'll keep this short and sweet. Claire was the sweetest person I've ever met. She had this amazing spirit and she really cared about you. She loved you. I'm not sure about half the things that happened on that island but that I'm sure of. _

_Take care of yourself, Charlie. Give Aaron a cuddle from me and I hope to hear from you soon._

_Love Kate. _

Charlie felt warm moisture fill up the corners of his eyes. Biting back tears, he read the letter over and over again, barely looking at Aaron who seemed to be crawling like mad around his enclosure. Kate was incredible. He felt guilty for not going to see her but he knew that time and Aaron hadn't allowed him much freedom to do anything for himself.

And he knew, despite everything, he and Claire had been perfectly right to name her as godmother, although they'd never actually gone through the legal process of making it so. Acts like this – acts of pure unselfishness – proved despite her fears of responsibility, when it came down to it, Kate could be relied upon to care for someone and he promised himself he would visit her the moment he could.

The second strange event came in the form of a phone call. An hour after reading Kate's letter, he'd put Aaron down for a nap – noticing the infant wasn't his usual perky self – and had jumped at the sound of the phone. Nobody had rung him for weeks. This sudden boost in communication had thrown him a little off guard, yet, reluctantly, he answered it, bracing himself for more bad news.

"Hello?" he asked.

_"Charlie? That you, dude?"_

His features visibly relaxed. "Hurley… How ya been mate?"

_"Er…not good," _his friend confessed. _"Honestly, I've been a bit lost since we got back. Don't really know what to do with myself anymore."_

"I hear you," Charlie said, chuckling. "You found a job yet? I heard down the grapevine you were struggling."

_"Found myself a job a couple of days ago. I now work at Mr Kluck's…again. I donated all the money – my lottery money and the settlement – to charity, because I didn't want it. Crazy or what?"_

"Nope, sounds like something good ol' Hurley would do," Charlie said, smiling despite himself. "What did you donate the money towards?"

_"Get this – I donated it to some charity which aims to help victims of disasters. The local newspapers couldn't get enough of the irony of it. Mom's dead proud though. I think she was afraid I would spend all the money on chicken or something."_

"Ah, your mum's great," Charlie told him warmly, remembering Hurley's slightly crazy but lovely mother, Carmen. "I can't believe the first time we met she thought I was one of the Oceanic people and had a go at me!"

_"Yeah…sorry about that, dude. I literally had my back turned to her for one moment and she was off. You missed her epic conversation with Sawyer, though. She called him a racist bully because he did his nickname thing with her and called her Dora, as in Dora the Explorer which is apparently some kid's T.V. show, so I'm interested to see how he knows that. But his face after she called him that…It was one of those moments I'd wished I'd had a camera."_

Charlie snorted with laughter.

"I'd have _loved_ to have seen that." Then, hesitantly, he added, "Sawyer came round yesterday."

_"Seriously? Our Sawyer?"_

"How many Sawyers do you think I know? Of course it was our Sawyer. He came round, leering and jeering until I told him about Claire. How did he not know about her?"

_"He's kinda been closed off from us all. After the various conferences and crap like that, he probably just wanted to get back to…well, being Sawyer. I've not heard from him since we were on that stupid news show. How is he?"_

Charlie hesitated. "He looked rough," he admitted. "I mean, on the outside he was the same rough but lovable jerk we all knew but…I don't know, he looked like he was a little lost boy. It was weird. He asked about Kate, like I'm her personal PA."

_"Well, the two were kinda close. It's nice he asked after her."_

"I suppose…" Charlie really didn't want to think about the Southerner. It'd been a weird encounter yesterday, yet it had reminded him that maybe not everyone was off living the high life like he'd presumed. "So…what's with the phone call, Hurley? You won another lottery or something?"

_"If that happened, I'd seriously consider cutting myself. I wanted to check in on you, dude. See how you were. I'm coming back to Australia in a few weeks and just wondered if you wanted to meet up." _

"I'd _love_ that," Charlie said warmly. "I'd have to arrange something with Aaron's grandmother, though, so as soon as you can give me a date, I'll sort it out." He hesitated again, biting back emotion. "It's so good to hear from you again."

_"I know. I'm sorry I've not called. Mom kept nagging me to. She said after everything I'd told her about you, she was surprised I hadn't married you. I think she was joking though, 'cause I do talk about you a lot…"_

Charlie laughed; he laughed properly as though he hadn't laughed in years. He laughed until the tears were rolling down his face. He'd missed his best friend so much. It was a crime that they'd gone separate ways and he realized this was yet another friendship he was going to have to fight to maintain.

_"Oops…gotta go, dude. Calling you costs me a bomb, and I kinda gave away the money which could've billed them." _He sheepishly laughed. _"Still don't regret it. Anyway, I'll call you soon, 'kay? Bye, dude…"_

"See ya," Charlie said, ringing off, a wide smile lingering on his face.

It was amazing how a letter and a phone call had somehow made his entire day. With something to look forward to, Charlie practically bounced his way into the kitchen and made himself some juice, feeling like he could finally get through a day without letting the misery of losing Claire consume him. He could see a faint light at the end of the tunnel, and he wasn't going to let it out of his sight.

* * *

_Rescue was a strange thing. It didn't look as glamorous as movies and the media generally painted it out to be. It involved a lot of flashing, as the survivors, their arms linked around each other – as if showing how tight-knit their bond had been – walked out of the small aircraft which had carried them over. _

_First to launch themselves out of the small crowd of people who'd gathered there in eager anticipation of their arrival was a wiry haired, overexcited woman who could only have been Hurley's mother. Accompanied by a small, chubby man, they surrounded Hurley, babbling nonsense at him and hugging him tightly. _

_Holding hands – Aaron nestled between them in the Bjorn – Charlie and Claire made their way out of the crowd, tears sliding down their cheeks at just the sight of rescue. It was messy, disorganized, and nothing like the movies had painted it out to be, but that was okay. It was the way rescue was meant to look – filled with emotion, and love, and relief. Claire squeezed Charlie's hand, prompting him to look down at her, a mingled smile of relief and exhaustion crossing his face. _

_"Charlie!" someone hollered. "CHARLIE!"_

_He felt his features go cold. This was the reunion he'd been dreading, partly because of the way they'd left things. He turned to Claire, who gave him an encouraging smile. _

_"Go…" she smiled. "We'll be fine." _

_"No," he said determinedly. "We do this together or not at all."_

_Leading her through the crowd, he found Liam waiting anxiously, Karen and Megan standing by his side. As soon as he spotted him, he seemed to close his eyes, muttering what seemed like a prayer under his breath, which was odd considering he'd once berated and mocked his brother for his religious views. _

_Charlie released Claire's hand and walked forwards, his head held high, fully prepared to be berated in some way, because Liam never was very good with emotional occasions like this. So many unspoken words lay between them; it took Charlie a moment to speak. _

_"Hey, brother," he said, his wobbling a bit. "You miss me?" _

_Liam stared at him, walking towards him and stopping a few feet before him. Charlie hadn't been holding high hopes his brother would show up, so just him being here was enough. He looked around at all the other reunions, which seemed to involve a lot of hugging and crying. Theirs, in stark contrast, just involved him and Liam staring at each other, neither wanting to make the first move. _

_"The way we left things…" Liam started, actually looking awkward. "It was…"_

_"Crazy?" Charlie laughed humourlessly. "I know."_

_Liam looked at him, a warm smile spreading across his features. He stepped a little closer, putting both hands on Charlie's shoulders, a look of awe slowly dawning as Charlie's presence seemed to sink in. Then, he lowered his head, turning it to one side and making a weird kind of movement across his eyes._

_"Are you…crying?" Charlie asked incredulously. _

_"No…" Liam denied, although his voice gave it away._

_"And you call me a wuss," Charlie hooted, punching his brother lightly on the shoulder. "Having a family's made you gone soft. I love it."_

_And then, wordlessly, they embraced, Charlie feeling his own eyes start to go. Over Liam's shoulder, he saw Megan wave shyly at him and it spurred him on to make a sudden confession._

_"I got news for you, brother," he said, releasing Liam and staring at him. "Just so we can skip ahead of the awkward introductions, I thought you should know whilst you were with your family, I found my own."_

_He steered Claire and Aaron forwards, much to Claire's embarrassment. She looked up at Liam, astonished at the similarities between the two of them. She'd somehow pictured him as being taller, with darker hair. _

_"Hi," she introduced shyly. "I'm Claire and I – Well, there's no other way of putting this, but I'm in love with your brother."_

_"Wow…" Liam looked astonished, clearly unable to summon any words. "When did this happen?"_

_"I don't know," Charlie said honestly. "But, before you say anything, this is real for me. I love her." He turned to her. "I know I've not said it to you yet but I do. I love you, Claire. Thank you for letting me stick around."_

_He flung an arm around her and kissed the side of her head. With wide eyes, Liam appraised the two of them, looking at Karen, his wife, who gave him a soft, encouraging smile. _

_"This is Aaron," Charlie added. "He's not mine…"_

_"But he might as well be," Claire interrupted. "Your brother helped me in so many ways. It's a story for later, though." She'd spotted her mother in the crowd, which had suitably distracted her. "Oh, my…"_

_She almost sunk into a faint, when Charlie caught her._

_"It's my mother," she whispered, looking up at him. "I thought she was…" She shook her head. "I can't…" _

_"Go," Charlie whispered to her. "You need to be with her. I'll be fine." He gave her a smile. _

_With a ghost of a smile, Claire nodded, before exiting. _

_"So…" Liam began, looking uncertain, as though unable to determine where to begin. "I guess you're a family man now, huh?"_

_"Yep," Charlie said, grinning at him. "Sorry, bro…but the baby and the blonde come with me from now on." He winked at him. "I'll give you a few moments to digest that."_

_Liam flung an arm around Charlie, shaking him slightly._

_"Charlie…" He shook his head. "It's just so good to see you again alive and well, I wouldn't care if you'd come back with an arc filled with animals."_

_"Referencing religion?" Charlie raised an eyebrow. "Shame on you, Li. Where did the atheist I used to know and respect go?"_

_"Guess he found something to have faith in after all," Liam replied with a chuckle. "It was more than just luck that brought you home. It was a miracle."_

_They hugged again, Charlie touched by his brother's words. He was reminded by the story of the Prodigal Son in the Bible, whereby the youngest son ran amok, doing what he pleased, whilst his brothers stayed at home and helped. After being made poor and losing all his riches, the son eventually returned, having realized the only true riches he'd ever had lay at home. Charlie could relate to that story in so many ways. _

_Except, for him, the happy ending had come up in an unexpected place, right in the heart of all the drama. And he wouldn't have had it any other way._

* * *

If he was being honest, he felt even more lost here than he had back in L.A. Sawyer couldn't relate to anything here. All it reminded him was of the man he'd used to be, and the way people stared at him, you would've thought he was. Notoriety, thankfully, hadn't followed him here, although he thought he saw a glimmer of recognition in a few people's faces.

This was a foreign land to him. He honestly didn't know why he'd even come here. He could've tried to get hold of anyone – Hurley had only been a couple of hours' drive away, and Jack wasn't that far away either – but he'd gone for Charlie and Claire because somehow he knew they wouldn't have judged his desperation to know about Kate. Now, Claire was gone and he felt this strange sort of grief tearing him in two.

Somehow, though, that had been nothing compared to the utter shock he'd felt at seeing Charlie again. Gone were his youthful looks, his boisterous swagger and his impish smile. Instead, he'd felt like he'd walked through a time machine and resurfaced in the future, so ravaged by time and grief were Charlie's features. And he'd just left him like that.

"Coffee to go, sweetheart," he said to the young girl behind the counter of the small coffee kiosk he'd come across.

Normally, he'd be drinking anything strong and hard, which would immediately have him forgetting his troubles in an instant, but he needed to clear his head. Drinking wouldn't solve anything, except momentarily ease his conscience.

"Decaf?" the girl asked.

"Huh?" He raised his head in confusion. "Er…sure, whatever."

He paid for his coffee and walked down the street, trying to figure out what his next move was. Ideally, he would've been on a plane going back to his bachelor pad – he had one in L.A., one in Mexico; he could've been talking about either, he didn't really give a damn either way – but planes made him too nervous to take within a certain proximity of each other. So far, he'd gotten by living off of motels and cheap hotel rooms, but he couldn't live that way forever.

So what did he do now? If he had options, he could pick one and move on but he didn't. Ironically, the only thing keeping him from just leaving (despite his fear) was the same thing which was driving him crazy with grief and guilt. And he was pretty sure going back there would give neither of them any pleasure.

What else could he do? No one had maintained contact with him. Not that he'd allowed them to. He'd made sure he was hard to trace, hard to follow, which was mostly down to old habits. Shake 'em and run had been his motto. But nobody had even _tried_ to find him. It was like once he'd upped and left, that was it, he was as good as dead to them all. And whilst ordinarily he wouldn't have cared he found he had this insane new desire to _belong._ He just wanted to stop running for once, maybe find someone to settle down with.

Kate, as much as he loved her, was becoming a pipe dream. He couldn't wait for her forever and he doubted their reunion would be as bittersweet as he'd pictured it in his own mind. That being said, he'd often come close to just dropping everything else and visiting her, just so he could memorise her.

A part of him wished he'd never left; that he'd just dropped out of the helicopter and allowed the ocean to consume him as he made his way back to the shores of the world's most miserable location.

Sawyer knew he had to consider his next move very carefully. No doubt the Australian federal government were watching his movements carefully. It was a sheer miracle they'd allowed him back in, especially after the whole reason he'd been on that plane was because they'd kicked him out. Maybe it was the whole guilt trip thing. Maybe on some level, they let him in because they didn't want to appear heartless to someone who'd been through something like that. Whatever the reason, he was surprisingly grateful. Seeing Charlie again had been like a kick to the head, reminding him that it'd all been _real._

And he had to do something with that knowledge. He just had to figure out what to actually do, where to go.

* * *

"Heya, buddy," Charlie murmured to a perkier Aaron. "Did you need that sleep? I bet you did."

He carefully lifted Aaron out of his crib and smiled as the infant snuggled against him. Tentatively, he rocked the infant to and fro, feeling cheerful for the first time in ages. Aaron seemed to sense it; he lifted up his tiny head and gave him a gummy smile.

"Let's put some music on, shall we?" Charlie suggested, taking Aaron into the front room and sticking the radio on.

It was either extremely coincidental, or just some kind of twisted joke, that Oasis' _Wonderwall_ started to play. Charlie would recognize those opening chords _anywhere._ It was the first song he'd really busked with, which was a crowd pleaser in and itself. Unwilling to change over, Charlie shrugged and held Aaron up in the air as he performed a little dance. Enchanted by the movements, Aaron let out this tiny, precious bout of laughter.

"You like that?" Charlie asked, chuckling. "Oh, if you like dancing, you are going to be a real heartbreaker someday."

He lowered the infant slowly before suddenly throwing him up into the air, catching him before blowing raspberries on his bare belly. The bout of laughter became proper giggles and, enthralled, Charlie repeated the action over and over again, until eventually, one of them had to give. It turned out to be Charlie, who, exhausted, let the little boy curl up against him as he collapsed onto the couch.

Scrutinising Aaron carefully, Charlie realized he was getting to the stage where his mum's features were starting to show. His hair was blonde and his eyes were the most beautiful shade he'd ever seen; sometimes he got so lost in them, it took him a moment to realize where he was, who he was looking at.

"Some day you're going to grow up and leave me," Charlie murmured to the now quiet Aaron. "Then what do I do?"

As if trying to reassure him, Aaron crawled up Charlie's chest and splayed his fingers across his face, a gesture which made Charlie crack up.

"Oh, I get it… It's a poking war," he announced, before lightly tickling the infant. "You might as well quit while you're ahead. I always win poking wars."

Aaron giggled as Charlie continued to mercilessly tickle him. Their combined laughter was so loud that Charlie didn't hear the door knock until the knocking took a quite incessant speed. Sighing, he held the infant and placed him in his playpen as he went to answer the door.

"Yes?" he asked, shocked to see Sawyer standing there. "Sawyer?"

"I felt terrible about yesterday," Sawyer said bluntly. "I jus' took off. I know you an' Claire were close. Well, really close," he amended. "I jus' wanted to make sure you were…okay."

"A sympathy call? Really?" Charlie laughed humourlessly. "I appreciate it, Sawyer, but I don't need the pity parade. I'm not going to pretend I'm fine but I can make it on my own. I don't need someone breathing down my neck, checking I'm not going to do anything stupid."

"Yeah…" Sawyer looked awkward. "I don't have anywhere else to go. I came here 'cause… well, I wasn't really close to anyone on the island." He inhaled deeply. "Wha' I'm tryin' to say is you're the closest thing to a friend I have. Half the stuff you do irritates me but you're not…I mean…"

"Enough," Charlie interrupted him, not unkindly. "Come on in."

He opened the door a little more, nodding impatiently. Sawyer looked awkward but nodded in appreciation and walked inside, noticing the place reeked of misery, which only added to his guilt.

"I've never seen you this speechless before," Charlie said, hovering protectively by Aaron. "Considering you're one of the most well-read and literate people I know, I'm surprised you're capable of being speechless."

"I know," Sawyer replied bluntly. "It's a shock to me too." He ran a hand through his head, clearly uncomfortable. "I jus' don't understand how you can _live_ this way."

"How do you mean?"

"You barely go out, you look dead…" Sawyer listed, then trailed off at Charlie's look. "I don' think we need a third…"

"So I'm not living the dream life. Big deal," Charlie said dismissively. "Three quarters of the world are in the same boat. Who in this day and age can say they have everything they want?" He proceeded to tidy up a little, embarrassed by the mess. "Nobody, that's who."

"Yeah, you seem _fine_," Sawyer said sarcastically. "Playin' Mr Mom looks like it's workin' out for ya real good."

"Have you come to lecture me, or make me feel even worse?" Charlie demanded. "I'm confused about your intentions, Sawyer. I don't know what to think about you being here. It's honestly the most surreal moment of my life."

Sawyer opened his mouth to argue back but the sound of the door stopped them both in their tracks. Charlie hesitated, wondering who on earth could be calling. He stared at Sawyer, who stared back, before retreating towards the door.

"Whatever you think you're doing here, it's not for the right reasons," he said slowly. "I may not know you but I know there's always something in it for you. If you're planning on sticking around in Australia, better figure out what the hell it is you want. A man doesn't get by until he knows what it is he wants."

"Yeah? Kinda the pot callin' the kettle black, ain't it?" Sawyer fired back. "What is it _you_ want? You don' exactly seem fulfilled."

"I want Claire back," Charlie whispered brokenly. "Isn't it obvious? Watch him," he commanded impatiently. "If you're here, you might as well be some use."

And he strode out of the room, leaving a very nervous Sawyer to watch a curious Aaron, who did something neither of them expected. With nervous little hands, the infant grabbed hold of the bars of his playpen and pulled himself into a standing position. Sawyer wasn't sure whether to yell for Charlie or not.

"What ya doin'?" he asked Aaron. "Why ya gotta be cute around me? I'm no good for ya. Trus' me. That's something both me an' your daddy can agree on."

Aaron laughed as if he'd said something funny. Sawyer buried his head in his hands. This had clearly been a mistake, yet he was very reluctant to leave.

Charlie meanwhile approached the door with, as it'd turned out, necessary caution. He opened it slowly, peering around it as if expecting paparazzi to emerge from behind it. Instead, a dark haired man stood in front of him, appearing to be in his mid to late twenties. His chin was unshaven, guarded by rough stubble, yet he bore a look of resolute determination Charlie was immediately wary about.

"Yes? Can I help you?" he enquired curiously.

"My name is Thomas," the man introduced himself. "And I believe you have my son. Aaron... isn't it?"

"You're Claire's ex," Charlie breathed, paling. "What do you want? You have no business being here."

"Yes, I do seeing how he's _my _son," Thomas said coolly. "I'm filing for full custody. So…I'm giving you an ultimatum. You either give me my son…or I'm taking you to court."

* * *

**A/n: Thank you for the reviews! This was a gem of a story I'd forgotten I'd written :P I've got this all planned out so please stick with it. And for those who'd like to kill Thomas…join the club! But unfortunately he's in many, many, many more chapters so just grit your teeth and bear with it. Life for Charlie is going to get completely confusing and dark so let the angst commence! And this won't be a slash story, as I have a different ending planned which actually works better. **


	3. On the Path to Hell

Chapter 3: On the Path To Hell

...

Charlie felt all the blood drain from his face. He staggered back, unable to think or react. Thomas stared at him, his eyes cool as he appraised him. The Briton found himself incapable of speaking for a good few minutes, every part of his brain working overtime trying to come up with a good enough response to that particular bombshell.

"Er… say what?"

That was the clever response his brain had selected for him to use? God, no wonder he was utterly screwed in every aspect of his life.

"You heard," Thomas said, enunciating his every word carefully, his expression already indicating he was under the impression Charlie was a complete idiot. "I want my son back. I heard about Claire passing away and I think my son needs to be with his biological father. It's the best thing for him."

Suddenly, Charlie found his voice, his lips curling with disdain.

"Claire told me about you," he said, barely hiding his contempt. "You couldn't even make up your bloody mind whether you wanted Aaron in the first place and ended up leaving her to raise him all alone. You're a bloody coward, that's what you are. I don't think babies belong with cowards or scumbags."

"Scumbag?" Thomas arched an eyebrow. "Very nice language, if I may say. I hope my son isn't subjected to it."

"_Your son_?" Charlie hissed. "He's your son in biology only. It takes more than that to be a father you know! Like the ability to be there for the mother, or the ability to be there for your son no matter what, not just when it bloody suits you!"

Thomas set his jaw, his eyes flashing with a mixture of anger and frustration. He seemed to be aware of his boundaries, however, as he seemed to fidget restlessly on the spot, aware there was nothing legally he could do for the moment. Charlie couldn't resist allowing a smirk to cross his lips, as unhelpful as he knew it was.

"Well, it gives me no pleasure to tell you this," Thomas began, though every gesture he was making seemed to contradict that particular point. "But it seems I'm left with one option. To file for custody. And, seeing how I'm biologically related to the child and you are not…" He paused, taking in Charlie's still posture. "Well, any reasonably impartial judge won't find it hard to make a decision as to who Aaron should live with."

And he left, leaving Charlie frozen to the spot, his arms crossing across his chest as if he physically had to hold himself together to stop himself from crumbling. But he couldn't quite hold back the anger within himself. A low growl escaped his lips and, before he quite knew what was happening, he'd stormed inside and punched the door shut.

It took him a moment to remember he had a guest and so, with effort, he regained his composure and walked slowly into the living room, his eyes widening as he saw Sawyer reading to Aaron from a magazine, the memories of those first forty-four days hitting him with the same kind of impact as a bag of bricks.

"Good news?" Sawyer asked, looking up and scrutinising his expression.

"Not exactly," Charlie said grumpily, flinging himself down on the couch. "What are you reading?"

"Motor homes," Sawyer said, gazing at the cover. "Nice choice o' readin' there, Grandpa. Sounds about as excitin' as findin' out you're the citizen of the year in Alaska."

"It's not mine," Charlie snapped, looking at Aaron's bemused face as he took in the sudden change in tone of the conversation. Lowering his voice, he added, "Look me and Claire got it because we couldn't stand living here any longer and we were looking for alternative environments."

"Coulda jus' used your settlement," Sawyer pointed out.

"We put aside most of it for Aaron's future," Charlie said with a sigh. "And we tried to conserve the rest of it for food and bills. We decided to sacrifice glamour for reality. Sue us for living the American dream."

Sawyer wanted to point out they were in Australia but didn't have the heart to. He felt completely out of place here, and every so often his eyes would find the framed picture of Claire, Aaron and Charlie all together and he would find his heart physically hurt looking at it. Claire was a sweet girl, who always found a kind word to send his way, and the irony of how she'd gone kept flicking through his mind. She'd survived a plane crash only to get back home and die in a car crash – it was such a hard thing to get his mind around.

"Who was at the door?" he asked, despite his reluctance to get much more involved in this sad excuse of a life Charlie seemed to have adopted.

Charlie hesitated, extremely wary about telling Sawyer anything. It wasn't that he didn't trust the guy, but he'd never really bonded with him. Well, the ride in the Dharma van had been fun, he supposed, and there had been the odd day he'd taken Aaron over so that he could be soothed by Sawyer's voice. But they'd never really shared anything other than the terrible secret of what they'd done to Sun, and after that had come out they'd never really shared anything other than furtive glances.

But he needed someone to talk to, to vent to. And beggars, like him in this case, really couldn't afford to be choosers.

"It was Aaron's real father," he admitted, instinctively going over and picking up the suddenly quiet infant, needing to hold him in that moment.

"Who?" Sawyer squinted, confused.

Charlie resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"Well, Sawyer, I hate to break it to you, but when a man loves a woman, they have certain…feelings…"

"Stop! I do not need the birds and the bees talk from you," Sawyer growled, looking horrified.

"I could give you Jack's number," Charlie suggested, smiling weakly despite the fact he felt like doing anything but.

"What did the guy want?" Sawyer asked, eager to change the subject.

He wouldn't admit it to anyone, but Jack's name still aroused a thin layer of contempt in his blood. It wasn't just because they loved the same woman, but because Jack had proclaimed himself the sole fixer of everything on the island and yet he couldn't save Kate from prison. And though he knew it was unfair to pin that on Jack, it saved his mind in lonely hours to have someone to blame.

"Aaron," Charlie said quietly. "Said he was going to file for sole custody."

"What?" Sawyer looked hard at him. "You serious, Chuck?"

"No. This is a joke," Charlie snapped. "Claire's going to pop up any time now and we'll all sing and dance the night away like the end of one of those stupid, numerous musicals!"

He put his head in his hands, finding sarcasm did nothing more than drill in the fact that Claire was gone, leaving his life utterly in tatters.

"He really wants the kid?" Sawyer stated, scratching his head as he watched the child in question play with Charlie's shirt, a little trail of dribble running down his tiny chin as he did so.

"He was the one who left Claire in the lurch in the first place!" Charlie said angrily, accidentally disturbing Aaron who started bawling.

Combined with the smell of the place – a clear blend of alcohol, diapers and baby food – and the sound of Aaron's crying, Sawyer was desperate to get out of there as quick as he could. He was not comfortable with social situations like this and he had to re-examine his reasons for coming here in the first place.

"What d'ya mean, Chief?"

"I mean, he encouraged her to have the baby and then left a month before he was due!" Charlie hissed, rocking Aaron up and down until the crying had subsided to nothing more than quiet sniffling. "Claire said he'd tried to get in contact with her after we got back but she refused to speak to him. That's when she told me about everything he'd done."

"Yeah, but it's his kid," Sawyer reasoned. "Surely if his intentions are good, you've gotta at least let the guy meet his kid."

If looks could've killed, Sawyer would've been in his grave by now, his corpse spontaneously combusting at random moments. He quickly gathered he'd said entirely the wrong thing and looked away, feeling even more socially awkward than he was already.

"You didn't see the way he looked at me, Sawyer," Charlie snapped, rising to his feet. "He looked at me like I was something disgusting under his shoe. Well, I'm gonna fight for Aaron. I might not be related to him but it takes more than biology to make a sodding father." He looked at Sawyer pointedly. "I want you to leave now. Please."

Sawyer felt bad for being no help whatsoever but he couldn't help but feel relieved. This wasn't his mess to get involved in, and he would only screw things up if he even tried to help. With that in mind, he gave Charlie a last look before heading for the door, leaving Charlie alone with his thoughts.

He nestled his face against Aaron's little shirt, wondering how things had gone so wrong when on paper it had been maybe not a perfect plan but a plan nonetheless.

* * *

_"This is a studio apartment," the young woman gushed, as she led the young couple through. "It's one bedroom, so quite a squeeze with your situation, but not entirely unmanageable. I've seen people do more with less." She let out an obviously rehearsed titter of a laugh. "The previous owner is willing to lease it if you cannot buy it, although from what I've heard you could probably buy this ten times over."_

_Charlie and Claire shared a look, a look which clearly showed they were both having second thoughts about this. They walked in, hand in hand, and gazed around the flat, which in its defence wasn't that bad. It needed a paint job, sure, and there were cracks in places, but it could be fixed up. _

_"So, what do you think?" the woman asked, her smile practically sickening. "It's within the price range we discussed and you have the rights to make this your home. You can fix this up however you like."_

_"We need a moment to talk," Claire piped up, looking meaningfully at Charlie. "May you excuse us please?"_

_"Sure," the young woman said politely. "I'll just be outside. Take all the time you need."_

_As soon as she walked out, Claire let out the sigh she'd been holding in. Her gaze lingered on the ugly walls and the damp patches in the wallpaper, and it was clear to Charlie she was regretting the mutual decision to give up a dream house for a shabby piece of reality._

_"I'm kinda wishing we had taken up my mom's offer of living permanently with her," she said, traces of despondency in her voice._

_"I know, but we made the right decision," Charlie insisted, trying to insert some optimism into the conversation. "We decided we wanted to build a life together properly, the way any new couple with a baby would. And it's not like the money isn't gonna be used. We're just gonna use it properly."_

_He rubbed her shoulder comfortingly._

_"It's our life to do with what we want," he said earnestly. "I resented my brother when he tried to dictate my life, Claire, and now I'm free and with the woman I love. So we're gonna make a go of this together, okay?" _

_"Okay," she agreed, a small smile emerging, gripping his hand tightly. "How come you always know the right thing to say?"_

_"Just do," he said smugly, giving her a Sawyer-like smirk. "Besides, this is kinda one of my dreams I used to have. Aside from being a musician that is. I liked the idea of building a home with a woman I loved. It's kind of that part of that day seizing thing we talked about, remember?"_

_"How could I forget?" she asked, grinning. "You made me breakfast in bed… Australian style."_

_"A gentleman always knows his audience," he said, raising her hand to his lips, the sound of her giggle making him grin in response._

_"I don't know what we're gonna do about the bed situation with Aaron though," Claire mused, looking worried. _

_"We'll buy him a crib," Charlie said, not concerned. "Who cares if he wakes us up in the middle of the night? It's all part of the experience, right?"_

_She gave him a funny look, one of her eyebrows rising right up until it was only inches away from her hair._

_"I'm interested to see if you'll still be saying that when it actually happens," was all she said on the matter, giving him a sly look and a gentle nudge to his ribs. _

_"I can handle anything," he boasted. _

_"Sure," she said, remaining entirely unconvinced. "So, I'll leave the first week of night feeds in your care, right?"_

_"Now, that's unfair," Charlie protested humorously. "Aaron won't like the change. I don't have breasts for starters. How can I compete with that?_

_For that comment, the next nudge to his ribs became a lot sharper and took a lot of air out of him. And despite the banter, they both knew this kind of life was going to take a lot of work from both of them. It sort of made the island look like a picnic, and that was something Charlie hadn't of thought possible. _

_But some things were worth the time and effort, and he was going to do everything in his power to make sure his small family stayed together._

* * *

Aaron's tiny hands explored Charlie's face, which the infant quickly retracted once they'd found his stubble, stubble which was quickly becoming a beard unless he shaved soon. Charlie flicked on the television, eager for a distraction, and found the children's channel for Aaron, who quickly became enthralled.

The next hour was oddly pleasant, a nice distraction from all the panic and terror that was clouding Charlie's mind. He felt warped by thoughts that Aaron would be taken away from him. Thomas was right – how could any judge deny Thomas his child when he was his biological father and let Aaron stay with a man who was clearly falling apart. There was no way he would win such a fight.

He kissed the top of Aaron's head and felt hot tears stream from his eyes, absorbing every moment and imprinting each one inside his mind.

Aaron, who had always been curiously perceptive for a baby, seemed to sense his mood was far from positive and snuggled against him. Instead of giving him comfort, it made Charlie feel worse, knowing these were the moments he was going to have to give up. A part of him couldn't help but wonder whether Sawyer was right – he had no idea what Thomas was really like, only what he'd heard from Claire. Maybe he should at least let the guy see his son before rejecting the notion of giving him up completely.

But the idea repulsed Charlie on all levels. The man was just so creepy, and there was something about him that made him want to punch him in the face. It could've been his cocksure attitude, or the way he looked at him, or even just everything about him.

"I don't know what to do buddy," he sighed, bouncing Aaron up and down on his knees. "Think I'm in a lot of trouble."

He looked down and saw Aaron's eyes were closing. With a thin smile, he scooped him up and carried him over to his crib, setting him down and planting a soft kiss on his cheek before walking away.

He was vastly surprised when the phone rang, not to mention terrified in case any lawyers were on the phone. He wouldn't put it past that slick creep to have already started filing for custody.

"H-Hello?" he ventured bravely.

_"Charlie? It's me, Carole."_

He wiped away the sweat beads that had suddenly gathered on his forehead.

"Hi, Carole," he said, his voice always high pitched whenever he spoke to her. "Do the arrangements for the weekend still stand?"

_"Listen, about that…" _She sounded hesitant, which wasn't a good sign. _"I'm the one who gave Thomas your address. I take it from your nervous tone you've already encountered him."_

"Why would you send him round?" Charlie felt too shocked to feel angry and betrayed just yet. "Why?"

_"Because I made a mistake with Claire not letting her know her father, and look how that turned out. Look, I'm not entirely happy about letting Thomas back into Aaron's life, but he has every right to see his own son, Charlie…"_

"What? No!" Charlie protested. "The guy, excuse my language, is a dick. He's clearly got some sort of motive for coming back now."

_"He heard about Claire's passing and wanted to help relieve you of the burden of looking after Aaron. You can't pretend it's easy for you, Charlie."_

"It's not," Charlie retorted. "But I'm doing my damn best, Carole, because I love that kid. Granted, he's not my child but I don't care. I'll fight tooth and nail for him if I have to." He bit his lip, his sudden confidence fading. "You know he's filing for custody right? He'll take him off of me and I won't see him anymore. He's all I got, Carole."

_"He's not yours, though, Charlie,"_ Carole reminded him. _"And it's not that I'm not on your side here, but Aaron has a chance to have a life with his real family, the only real family he has. Why would you take that away from him?"_

"You know what?" Charlie began angrily, before slamming the phone down, unable to put his thoughts into words.

Stalking around the flat, he muttered a stream of profanities under his breath and decided he needed reinforcements. He reached for the phone again and took a deep breath, wondering if this was such a good idea. He'd rejected Liam's help after the funeral, and he'd rejected it in the days afterwards. Had that ship sailed? he wondered. He sincerely hoped not.

The phone rang two times before Liam's gruff voice answered the phone.

_"Hello?"_

"Liam?" Charlie felt himself melt with relief. "I'm so glad you answered."

_"Charlie?" _Liam sounded cautious. _"You okay?"_

"Not really," Charlie whispered brokenly. "You remember you said you'd help me whenever I needed it?"

_"Yeah? And I seem to recall you rejected it numerous times."_

Charlie inhaled deeply, bracing himself for a similar type of rejection.

"I need it now. I _really _need it. I'm falling apart, Li, and I don't know – I don't know what to do. I feel like I'm drowning in everything, you know? Each day I hope life will get a little bit better and it never does." He felt his voice rise with hysteria. "I'm sorry for rejecting your help, Li, 'cause I didn't think I needed it. I thought I could carry the world on my shoulders, fight on like Dad did after Mum, but I can't. I can't fight anymore."

There was only the slightest of pauses before Liam replied.

_"Stay right where you are. Don't do anything_ _stupid. I'll be there in ten minutes."_

* * *

**A/n: Thank you for all the amazing reviews! You are so awesome. I've got so many great ideas for this fic so updates from now on should be regular. I'm aiming for once a week. :D Thanks to Sk8r-grl for sending me a lovely message asking me to update this. I have such sweet reviewers :D Next chapter will be up soon. :D**


	4. Don't You Cry No More

Chapter 4: Don't You Cry No More

….

Charlie felt himself shake, as though the mere premise of his brother visiting was something to dread not look forward to. Before Claire's demise, they'd had trouble fixing what they'd broken anyway, and it had taken a while before they felt comfortable around each other again, the ghosts of arguments past still lingering between them despite everything.

But still, family was family. He couldn't afford to throw away Liam's help on account of his stupid male pride.

When the door knocked, he put Aaron down in his playpen, making his way over to the door, before tentatively opening it, almost expecting social workers to be at the door with some sort of document which would give them the authority they required to take Aaron away. But, thankfully, it was Liam, so in some small way fate was being kind – or cruel, depending which way you viewed it – by delaying the inevitable.

"Charlie," Liam said, with obvious relief in his voice.

"Liam," Charlie returned. "You came."

They hugged fiercely, the distance between them promptly closed. Charlie couldn't remember why he'd turned down Liam's support before; it was probably the stupid male pride thing again.

"My word, you're a mess," Liam declared, giving him the once over.

"Thanks," Charlie said sarcastically, giving him a wobbly grin. "Told you I was falling apart. See the works of my labour come to fruition." He gestured up and down. "I am the definition of a complete mess at this moment."

He let Liam in, and it was immediately clear his older brother could sense the disarray in this apartment. For starters, the smell was usually the first thing that hit people when they dared to venture inside. It was a mixture of diapers, leftover food and dirty laundry. From the expression of Liam's face, he could see just visiting the apartment had already given him a picture of what his baby brother had to deal with.

"So, trouble in paradise?" he said casually.

"If by trouble you mean hell, and by paradise, again, you mean hell, then yes," Charlie offered dryly.

"I see…" Liam suddenly stopped, looking at Aaron. "Is that the little guy? He gets bigger every time I see him."

Aaron gurgled, clearly unfamiliar with Liam but nonetheless happy to see him.

"Can I - ?" Liam asked, clearly taken with Aaron.

"Go ahead," Charlie encouraged.

Very gently, Liam reached out and picked Aaron up, bouncing the infant up and down, a wide smile gradually crossing his face. Charlie watched with his arms folded, clearly torn between feeling overjoyed with the way Liam seemed to interact with Aaron, and devastated knowing these moments were, at some point, going to be taken off him.

"He's gorgeous," Liam declared, giving Aaron a cheeky grin. "God, it makes me broody. I remember when Megan could fit in my hand. She was a tiny baby, but so perfect."

"You and Karen thinking of having more kids?" Charlie asked curiously.

"She said childbirth wasn't something she wanted to put herself through again," Liam replied, his eyes glued to Aaron. "But she was babysitting for her sister, Camilla, and just got those broody eyes women always get around children, so, I wouldn't say we haven't talked about having maybe one more."

Liam stuck out his tongue and blew a raspberry, causing a high pitched giggle to emerge from Aaron. Despite the severity of the situation, Charlie couldn't help laughing too. It'd been a while since laughter had resided under this particular roof.

"So, what's been going on?" Liam asked, still swept up under Aaron's spell. "On the phone you sounded…desperate."

"The little guy's real father showed up. Wanted his son back," Charlie croaked, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly.

"The same guy who hasn't shown an interest in his son since…ever?" Liam enquired.

"You know about him? How?" Charlie demanded.

"Claire showed up one day, looking out of her mind with exhaustion, and said she needed someone to talk to otherwise she was going to go crazy," Liam replied seriously. "She did look exhausted."

"What about me? What about her mother? Why did she come to you to talk?" Charlie asked, injured.

"According to her, you were too busy worrying about the finances, and where the next pay cheque was coming from, that she didn't want to overload you," Liam reported. "And her mother was visiting her sister in Melbourne for the weekend. So she came to me. Believe me, I was just as surprised as you."

Charlie was too exhausted, too emotionally drained to feel any sort of emotion about that statement. But the guilt seemed to find all his weak spots, and continued to stab him.

Because in those final few weeks before Claire's death, he had been preoccupied with money issues, he had been too preoccupied to see the signs that maybe, just maybe, something else had been bothering her.

"What did she say?" he asked, his voice strained.

Liam looked up, saw the guilt in his eyes, and bit his lip, wondering how best to proceed.

"She said this guy Thomas had approached her a few weeks after you guys got home. She said he'd asked her to see his son, but she told him where to go and didn't think anything else of it. But he continued to pursue her. There were the late night phone calls, the so-called coincidental meetings… She was considering filing a harassment claim, and wanted a second opinion."

"I didn't hear any phone calls in the middle of the night," Charlie said with a frown.

"You were working all hours to scrape some extra cash at some local clubs," Liam explained. "She didn't want to give you anything more to worry about. Said something about how it was her burden to bear not yours."

Charlie paced about the room, reeling from these revelations. He felt incredibly guilty for not being there for her emotionally, and wondered why she'd stayed with him. It wasn't just enough to support someone financially. Emotional support played a significant role too, and he'd failed in that department.

Liam rocked Aaron whilst watching his brother mentally break down. He wished there was something he could do, but what could you do? Any court would pass off Thomas's frequent visits and calls as the act of a father desperate to see his son again, rather than anything more emotionally distressing.

"So, what do I do, Li?" Charlie asked, his voice shaking. "I can't let this guy take his son back. But then again, am I wrong to deprive him off his son? I know if it was my kid, I'd go to the ends of the earth to get him back."

"Then that's what you need to do," Liam said simply. "You've said it yourself. Fight for him. Take this bastard to court before he does it himself. Make him sweat."

"Really?" Charlie arched a brow in surprise. "I didn't think you, as a father figure, would support me. I thought you were going to tell me to let the guy have his kid back."

"Normally, yes, but any guy who goes to extraordinary lengths for a child that isn't even his deserves more paternity rights to that child than the father, especially if said father hasn't done a damn thing for his child except harassing the mother," Liam said vehemently. "Look, I know we've both made mistakes in our life, but I think raising children did us a lot of good."

"I agree," Charlie said, lightly punching Liam in the shoulder. "Still this court idea doesn't really fly with me. I mean, what kind of lawyer is going to take my case?"

Liam smiled. "I know a great one as it happens."

* * *

Sawyer was in his motel room when the call came. Wary, and wondering who the hell had his cell number, he picked it up.

_"Is this Sawyer?"_

He sighed, relaxing. He only knew one British guy, and the accent certainly was enough for him to identify the caller.

"How'd ya get this number, Chuck?" he asked, torn between concern and curiosity.

_"It wasn't easy. But I know a guy."_ Charlie sounded hesitant. _"Listen, I know you don't exactly give a damn about this type of thing, but I wanted to thank you for coming round. I know you didn't exactly do anything, but you gave me a lot to think about. You know, with the whole Aaron situation."_

Sawyer relaxed even more.

"So, you're gonna let the guy see his kid?"

_"Nope. I'm gonna take this bastard to court. My brother's words, not mine."_

Sawyer was going to point out that he was hardly helping himself by taking the route he'd been trying to avoid, but became side-tracked with something completely irrelevant.

"Wait – you have a brother?" he demanded.

_"Um, way to focus on the real issue here, Sawyer. But yeah, I do have a brother."_

"This ain't a good idea, sport," Sawyer told him. "I appreciate the call, but, hell, you ain't gonna gain anything from this other than heartbreak. It's a foolhardy mission. Thought you had more brains than that."

_"So I'm supposed to just let him go? To a man who changed his mind about being a parent and left Claire in the lurch? Notice how he only got into contact after the crash! That ought to tell you something."_

"You hear these cases all the time 'bout parents who change their minds an' end up being a part of their kid's life," Sawyer reasoned. "I'm not rootin' for this guy, Chucky, but believe me, it's worth letting the guy at least see his kid."

_"You know, I'd believe this nice guy act a little better if I didn't know for a fact you have a child of your own. A child you seem to not be doing much towards raising yourself."_

Check and mate, Sawyer thought to himself, a scowl surfacing.

_How the hell had Charlie found that out?_

"Lemme guess, the same guy that got you my number, also managed to hook you up with my life story," he growled. "Gotta say, I didn't take ya for a nosey little – "

_"You can insult me until you're blue in the face, Sawyer. But if the mother of your child had this guy who you knew for a fact was giving him or her a better life than you ever could, what would you do? Honestly?"_

He had to admit the midget did raise a good point.

"Probably leave the kid in that man's care," he admitted. "But it'd kill me inside, knowin' ma little girl was runnin' into the arms of a stranger, callin' him daddy an' everythin'."

Charlie's tone softened.

_"Look, there's something about this guy I don't like. If he was decent, do you think I'd even be doing all this? Look, Claire didn't see fit to give him custodial rights, so I'm trusting her judgement on this one. I'm not asking you to approve of it, I was just telling you because I thought you might actually give a damn. You came to see Claire, so she must have had an impact on your life in some way 'cause from what I've gathered, you're not the most social of people."_

"Enough. Quit psychoanalyzing me!" Sawyer snapped. "Sure, Claire was one o' a kind. But I ain't riskin' my ass getting involved with this whole sordid affair. It ain't my business, an' I shouldn't have tried to make it so."

There was a pause.

_"Thanks, Sawyer."_

"For what?" he asked, immediately confused.

_"For reminding me of exactly who you are. You don't do a damn thing for anyone else and you're going to end up alone because of it. I thought for one moment – Oh, never mind. I don't know what I was thinking."_

And he promptly hung up.

Sawyer stared at the phone in his hand, taking a few seconds to process the conversation before angrily flinging the phone at the wall until it shattered.

How dare Charlie judge him? How _dare_ he try and analyse him, like he was a statistic not a person? How dare he try and belittle him?

It then occurred to him how hypocritical his thoughts were going. He couldn't well judge Charlie for judging him, when on the island that'd all he'd done –he'd judged people and doled out nicknames. That'd been it. Other than the occasional showdown, he'd not really been party to anything else.

Damn it! How was it that munchkin could get inside his head?

Only Kate had ever managed to do that before, and he'd somehow managed to push her away. Once upon an unhappier time, he could've blamed his issues on the fact his life's purpose was to hunt down and kill down the man who'd ruined his life – which was screwed up in and of itself – but now, well, all he could really blame his social insecurities on was himself.

Sawyer had a sneaking suspicion that by the end of the day, he was a) going to have a new phone, and b) going to call Charlie back.

He knew the law inside and out, not because he liked learning about it, but because back in his conning days, it was important to know what tricks would get flagged up by the police and which ones wouldn't. Charlie, in his foolish quest to gain sole custody of an infant who wasn't even rightfully his, was going to need someone with a little expertise on the art of getting round the law.

And judging by his sour expression and the sinking feeling in his gut, he knew that someone was going to end up being him.

Super.

* * *

_"You sure we're not going to get caught?" a nervous Charlie asked, visibly sweating. _

_"Look, Watson, it's dead simple, okay? You grab someone – maybe Sun, she's always in the jungle on her own – and make it look like the Others," Sawyer instructed. "Don't get seen. Don't get caught. S'only two things to remember."_

_Charlie rubbed his fingers nervously together, his skin tone a distinct shade of green. Sawyer had to wonder why he'd chosen him to help, but then he remembered a man generally did stupid things to humiliate someone out of revenge, and, let's face it, when it came to choosing conniving henchmen to do his dirty work, he wasn't exactly spoiled for choice here. Charlie would have to do._

_"Relax, Chuck. You'll be fine," Sawyer assured him. "You do exactly what I say, an' you'll be fine."_

_"What if something goes wrong?" Charlie fretted. "Claire will never talk to me ever again."_

_"Yeah, 'cause she's on the verge of doin' so right now," Sawyer said sarcastically. "Look, everyone needs to learn a lesson here, an' not jus' the big boys. They need ta learn everythin' can change jus' like that." He snapped his fingers to demonstrate. "An' it wouldn't hurt for them ta remember my stash is best left alone. Well alone."_

_"You do know next time you piss off somewhere after this, your stash will demolished, right?" Charlie told him, his posture clearly that of a nervous man._

_"Then they'll have to dig themselves a grave, right Chief?" Sawyer said, grinning to himself as if he'd told a marvellous joke, although there was a hint of seriousness in his eyes which suggested he wasn't entirely joking. _

_Charlie fought the urge to roll his eyes. Suddenly, all of this seemed like a horrible idea, but it was too late to back off now. All he had to do was give the camp a little scare, giving Sawyer ample time to wind up Jack and Locke so each became paranoid about the other, meaning the guns would be moved, which is where he came in. He would follow Locke, find out the position of the guns, and then run back and tell Sawyer the location. _

_"We don' make tha' bad a partnership," Sawyer commented, giving Charlie a sly look. "I'm the brains, an' you're the….helper."_

_"Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence," Charlie said sarcastically. "Please, stop with the praise, I might have to stop my head from inflating."_

_"You're not that bad ta hang out with," Sawyer noted. "If ya weren't such a wet blanket, with Mamacita on the brain 24/7, I might actually grow ta like ya." _

_"From you, I'll consider that a monumental compliment."_

_Sawyer gave a low chuckle, finding that the hobbit wasn't exactly the worst company he'd ever had. In fact, he even managed to amuse him on occasion. _

_"You help me with this, Chuckles, it's a guarantee Captain Hair will be humiliated, an' we'll both be satisfied with takin' down those that think themselves higher than us, a peg or two." He considered. "Maybe five if we're lucky." _

_"Still," Charlie said doubtfully. "This isn't exactly going to win us any friends."_

_"Who cares about friends? This is 'bout making war, not friends."_

_Charlie gave him a grim look._

_"You know, it wouldn't hurt to listen to your conscience every once in a while," he said meaningfully. "Maybe you wouldn't have so much trouble fitting in if you did that."_

_"Hey, if I wanted a pep talk from a jumped up has-been, I'd have talked ta Jack. Now, get moving. I want ta complete this con today, if it's all the same ta you!"_

* * *

"Elijah Woodward," Charlie read from the card Liam had handed him. "Sounds native."

"He wins the majority of cases he takes on," Liam said pointedly. "He's your guy. He got all of the drug charges dropped against me when I had a minor…slip when me and Karen first decided to make a go of living here. Without him, Karen's father would never have hired me, and there certainly would've been no way Karen would've let me be near Megan. I'm telling you, he's a miracle worker."

"How did you know to get him though? Was he recommended by someone?"

"Karen's father knows him through a client. He's supposedly one of the best in the business," Liam reported.

"And he's going to cost me a bundle," Charlie hissed. "I may not have lived long enough on this planet to know everything, but I do know the best never comes cheap."

"Let me pay," Liam suggested. "Look, before you play the pride card, you want the best type of lawyer when it comes to this. You can't afford to use a cheap one who really doesn't care whether you win or lose. You want one who's highly motivated and trained to take on any sort of case, unusual or otherwise."

Charlie sighed, staring at Aaron who was still perched patiently on Liam's knee. He scratched his head, wondering what Claire would make of all of this, whether she'd be encouraging him to fight or just telling him that they were fighting a losing battle and should give up.

Then he remembered what Liam said and knew what her answer would've been.

_Hell no!_

"Alright," he agreed. "I'll do it."

"I'll handle the expenses," Liam informed him. "But it might help if you had someone who knew the ins and outs of the law. I only know what I learned from all those TV dramas and police shows, and that isn't a whole lot."

"I actually know someone who might be able to help," Charlie said reluctantly. "But I doubt he'd actually help. He's not really the helping type."

His phone suddenly rang, a sound which both made him jump and Aaron start to cry.

"Get it," Liam encourage. "Let me get him settled for you."

Sensing his brother needed this moment for broodiness purposes, Charlie gave him an encouraging smile, before picking up the phone.

"Hello, Charlie Pace speaking, how may I help you?"

He had no idea what had made him greet the caller like this; it was born out of a moment's fear some fancy lawyer was on the other end, and the ridiculous urge to make a good impression had just kicked in.

_"Hey, it's me."_

He blinked rapidly. "Sawyer?"

_"Who else? Listen, this is a pay phone, I kind of, er, broke my phone by accident."_

"Accident," Charlie snorted. "Okay, let's go with that…"

_"Stop bein' a smart ass. I'm only sayin' this once. If it means tha' much ta ya, I'll help."_

Charlie narrowed his eyes.

"What's the catch?" he demanded.

_"No catch. An' hell this ain't for ya."_

"No?"

There was a heavy sigh on the other end, as if Sawyer was about to divulge some big secret he really hadn't planned on sharing.

_"I'm doin' it for Claire. She kept in touch when no one else did. Guess it's only fair, I try an' keep what's left of the Brady Bunch together._"

Charlie didn't want to be the one to point out Sawyer's nickname here didn't exactly fit, considering the Brady Bunch had been a considerably large family and his family was, well, very small.

Still, from what he could gather the conman's intentions seemed to be, for once, sincere and genuine. And it wasn't like he could turn down the help.

"Sure," he agreed. "Look, why don't you come round? You remember the flat?"

_"Unfortunately, yes. An' even more unfortunately, I'm five minutes away._"

"Really?" Charlie couldn't resist the jibe. "You couldn't stay away from me, huh?"

_"Yeah, that's right. I can't get enough of you. Let's get it on, you sex machine."_

"Okay, I know I started it, but now I'm scared."

On the other end, Sawyer gave a low chuckle.

* * *

**A/n: Thanks for the reviews. Next chapter we get introduced to the lawyer and things are set in motion. I actually had an epiphany writing this, and the original ending to this has completely changed, but in a good way 'cause the other ending was quite unrealistic. Hope you enjoyed the flashback in this – always wondered how the conversation between Sawyer and Charlie pre-con in season 2 went. :)**


	5. The Truth Hurts

Chapter 5: The Truth Hurts

….

Elijah Woodward had sustained quite a reputation in his twelve years of service to the law. He was only in his late thirties, yet he'd managed to gain himself a reputation as being ruthless in the courtroom, and perfectly polite and courteous outside. He respected the desire for justice, and considered himself a good judge of character. In about ninety-percent of cases when the evidence presented on both sides meant the outcome was utterly unforeseeable, he knew the trump card which would favour a win was the character of individual on trial.

Law had been in his blood as long as he could remember. His father had been the highly reputable Judge Sebastian Woodward, who had retired only last month, and so following his footsteps had been a rather big pair of shoes to fill. Due to the amount of successes he'd obtained, however, he felt confident he was living up to his father's reputation quite well.

He wasn't exactly the kind of barrister anyone ever expected. He was African-American in descent – in fact, most of his life had been spent in third world countries, where the respectability of the law was constantly challenged and questioned - yet knew an extensive amount on International Law. He was 5 foot 9, and always clad in dark suits, usually navy blue in colour which was his lucky colour. And despite his very busy work schedule, he still had managed to find love and make a family, with his wife being a successful business woman with her own chain of shops up and down the Australian coast, and his daughters both flourishing beautifully.

In short, he'd managed to keep the two worlds of career and family both distant and entwined quite beautifully.

"Mr Woodward," his secretary, Helen Rush, called, popping into his office momentarily. "Your ten o'clock is here."

"Ah, right," Elijah said, scanning his appointment list. "This would be a Mr Charles Pace, am I correct?"

"Yes, you are," Helen simpered.

"Would he be any relation to Liam Pace perchance?" Elijah enquired.

"From what I gather, they are brothers," Helen informed him.

"Thank you, Helen," Elijah said, smiling gratefully at her. "That'll be all."

As she scurried out, he sat behind his desk, turning the picture of his youngest daughter, Elyse, towards him, subconsciously mirroring her toothy grin. He stared at the door, waiting as two men walked in, one looking completely out of his depth, whilst the other seemed to appear fairly confident.

"Mr Pace," Elijah greeted Liam enthusiastically. "It's good to see you again. I do hope you're keeping well?"

"All thanks to you, sir," Liam replied, equally as enthusiastic. "This is my brother, Charlie."

Elijah turned and shook Charlie's hand, sharing the same wide grin in his direction, noticing the younger man looked worn and haggard, his eyes containing sheer exhaustion and pain.

"Now, what can I do you both for?" he enquired, gesturing for them to sit down in the chairs provided.

Liam looked at Charlie meaningfully.

"I've got a dilemma," Charlie began cautiously. "Well, not a dilemma per se. You see I survived a plane crash…"

"Oceanic 815?" Elijah recalled. "Yes, I heard about that. It's a miracle you all survived for as long as you did."

"Right. Well, I met this wonderful woman there. She was pregnant and ended up giving birth on the island. We fell in love and once we were rescued, we started a life together here in Australia. Her, me and the baby."

"Uh-huh, so far I'm following you," Elijah responded, nodding solemnly.

"She died not long after we were rescued," Charlie continued, his voice tightening with the pain accompanying that statement. "In a car crash, leaving me with the baby. His name is Aaron. He's got her eyes and her smile, and he's just the most gorgeous baby in the entire world. But a few days ago, the father of the child came to see me. I know for a fact Claire said he'd wanted nothing to do with his son about seven or eight months into the pregnancy, and he left her. He left _them,_" he corrected himself. "And now he shows up, claiming to sue for custody unless I give him his son. And I don't know what to do."

"We were hoping to file for sole custody ourselves," Liam interjected. "Well, not me, but him. Is that possible?"

Elijah had been following this story with interest, his hands resting together on his desk as he began to process it all, his mind mapping out the possible routes they could go down should he agree to take the case.

"It's unusual, but not unheard of," he said slowly. "I've seen many cases of custody battles where someone who is not biologically related to the child in question win sole custody over the biological parent. Usually, however, you have to go down this long legal road of trying to prove what qualifies you for sole guardianship, or, in many cases, what makes the biological parent unfit to care for the child. Does the father display violent tendencies?"

"Um…no, not that I know of," Charlie said, looking bewildered by the question.

"Is he an alcoholic? Does he have an addiction or mental illness which might affect the way he would raise his child, if given sole custody?" Elijah pursued.

"No… I don't think so," Charlie replied, flustered. "Look, I only met the guy once! Other than being a prick, I don't think he has any violent tendencies, or addictions."

"I know you won't want to hear this, Mr Pace," Elijah said slowly, leaning back in his chair. "But any reasonably impartial judge will not look twice at your case. They'll automatically issue custody to the biological father. Have you got anything that might give a judge reason to hear your side of the story? Anything that might plant a seed of doubt? That's what we'll need if this case is to get through."

"Um, I know a few weeks before Claire's death, he was harassing her for custodial rights," Charlie recalled nervously.

"Okay, I can run with that," Elijah said, retrieving a notepad and jotting down notes. "We can check police records, see if any kind of harassment claim was ever filed. Anything else?"

"She seemed to be under the impression he was following her," Charlie listed.

"Under the impression?" Elijah shook his head. "It's not a phrase we who work in the law are particularly fond of, Mr Pace. _Under the impression_ is a phrase which is enough to give even the most watertight of stories reason for extra scrutiny. Is this really all you have to go on?"

"Like I said," Charlie said, through gritted teeth. "I only met the guy once. But I just _know_ he's no good. If Claire had wanted him to see his son, she would've done, and I would've had no right to interfere. But I'm trusting her judgement with this one."

Elijah looked sympathetically at him.

"I understand your plight, Mr Pace, really I do…" he began.

"Do you have kids?" Charlie interrupted, his eyes alight with a furious kind of pride.

"Two girls," Elijah replied, nodding.

"And if they weren't yours? Would you still feel the same way towards them?"

"Yes," Elijah said slowly, not sure where this was heading. "They're terrific girls."

"Aaron is this amazing little boy," Charlie ploughed on. "I know what foods he likes, and what he doesn't like. I know his favourite toy. I know he could watch _Thomas the Tank Engine_ all day. I know his birthday – hell, I was there when he was born! – and I know just where he likes to be tickled. This other guy … he knows _none_ of this. He has to have some other ulterior motive! I dunno…"

He slumped his head in his hands, feeling despair spread through him like wild fire. Alright, he might not have said it in as many words, but Elijah had basically implied there was no hope, that this case was an open-and-shut one.

In an effort to help, Liam decided to question the motives of the lawyer.

"I thought you took all sorts of cases, even the unusual ones," he questioned. "My brother really loves this little boy. Can't you think of any way we can win sole custody for him?"

"I only take cases I can find an angle from to win," Elijah said shortly. "I don't believe in taking cases just for the money, Mr Pace. I have to be sure I can deliver justice if an injustice has been caused. I feel for your brother, I really do, but I'm afraid knowing all about someone else's child isn't enough to win over the judge."

He stacked some papers he had lying on his desk, mostly as a way of avoiding the crushed look of his potential client.

"Although…" He looked hesitant. "I suppose we could try and use your character to try and wrangle a win. It's very rare where a court case is based solely around the individual client's character."

"So you'll take me on as a client?" Charlie asked hopefully.

"Yes," Elijah responded, having a feeling this wasn't going to be an easy case to handle. "But first, I need to know everything about you before I can proceed. That includes any criminal charges or anything else unusual, because you can bet your ass that the lawyer handling the father's case will search for anything they can hold against you."

Charlie shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"You need to know _everything?_" he questioned, looking nervous, thinking about his criminal charges.

"Yes, because the lawyer representing this little boy's father's case will no doubt do a lot of digging on you, Mr Pace," Elijah said, jotting down the odd note on his pad. "In most cases, they usually check through police records, medical records, that sort of thing. We rarely have to go deeper. So, tell me everything – good and bad – about you, that way we can be prepared for it to come up in court. We can work out weeks beforehand how to make it sound positive."

"How can you do that?" Charlie enquired confused.

"If, say, you were an alcoholic, and you'd had various encounters with the police due to your addiction," Elijah explained patiently, "the lawyers prosecuting against you would immediately jump on that and use it as a reason to blacken your character, make you appear twisted and unbalanced. But, with good planning, the lawyer defending you – in this case, that would be me – could use that as a way of building up this determined side of you, by using your alcoholism as a way of proving how you'd tried to get back on the straight and narrow and succeeded."

"What about drugs?" Charlie countered.

"Well, it would depend entirely on the class of drugs," Elijah mused, folding his hands together as he leaned back in his chair. "If you were caught handling serious quantities of illicit substances, and received a jail sentence – which you'd, naturally have served – of, say, a year or above, then you'd find the judge less likely to sympathise with your plight. Ex-convicts, no matter how minor the crime, don't generally favour well in court, except in _exceptional_ circumstances where the judge feels they've been dealt some sort of injustice. Then, and only then, would the criminal charges be overlooked."

"Oh…" Charlie folded back, looking unhappy. "Well, I appreciate you giving it to me straight, Mr Woodward."

"Have you been to prison?" Elijah enquired, looking at him hard.

"A couple of times," Charlie admitted. "Well, not really to _prison_ prison. But I have been locked in a cell for a couple of days. Not exactly an environment I'm eager to return to, let's just leave it at that."

"Well, I can work with that," Elijah said smoothly. "But give me all the bad details of your life first, that way I can start working out a way of making sure if any of this does come out in court, we'll be prepared."

Charlie nodded, looking over at Liam who was remarkably quiet, his eyes attentive and focused.

"Okay," Charlie said quietly, exhaling loudly. "Let's start with my teenage years…"

* * *

After an excruciating first session with Elijah, Charlie came out of the office physically drained. Liam had remained behind to discuss the matter of payment, which left him to wander up to the receptionist, a young girl in her early twenties with stone grey eyes and a stretched smile that seemed to resemble plaster – one crack, and it would all crumble.

"I'd like to make another appointment for Tuesday," he said politely. "Preferably in the afternoon."

"Right," the woman drawled, looking bored. "I can pencil you in just after Mr Jefferson at 1p.m. That's 2 in the afternoon if you need to write it down…"

"No, thank you, my brain can sufficiently cope with having that tiny date stored away there," Charlie said lightly, his mouth itching to release something more bitter, something less PG and decorated in ugly, foul words.

"Right," the receptionist repeated, pencilling in the appointment before tapping something into her computer. "Right, that's you booked in, Mr Pace. Have a nice day and please do not hesitate to ring if you need to cancel or change your appointment."

He nodded curtly, before turning to exit the building as fast as he could. He leaned himself against the exterior of the building, breathing in and out as the panic began to settle in.

_What the hell was he doing?_

He hadn't counted on the fact that he would have to be judged on his character. True, he'd not known what to expect, but he hadn't expected his past crimes to catch up on him like this.

"So…how did the meetin' go?" someone drawled beside him.

Charlie nearly leapt about a foot into the air, his hand flying to his chest. He turned and saw Sawyer leaning against the wall, his arms folded, a cool expression on his face as if this was a perfectly normal thing to do.

"You must stop this," he near enough snarled.

"Stop what, chief?"

"Sneaking into my life like this." Charlie inhaled and exhaled slowly. "What are you doing here?"

"Showin' my support," Sawyer replied, grinning. "Not got any pom-poms or anythin' but…"

"Ha, ha, I'm crying with laughter," Charlie retorted, looking more close to the other extreme. "How did you know where to find me? There must be a dozen law firms scattered around the place, if not _hundreds._"

"You forget wha' I used to be. _Who _used to be," Sawyer reminded him. "I can dig up information on anyone."

"And you used your Southern charm no doubt," Charlie sighed.

"That too," Sawyer said, grinning. "So…how'd it go? Did he take on ya case?"

"Yes, but it's not that simple," Charlie informed him. "I had to tell him all my dirt. _All_ of it. He said something about making sure he knew my past just in case the opposition – whatever you call it – managed to dig up dirt on me and used it against me."

"Makes sense," Sawyer said, nodding. "All that 'know thy enemy' crap certainly not a bad thing to use in situations like this."

"I could really use a cigarette," Charlie suddenly said, the urge random and quite out of place.

"Didn't know ya smoked, Watson."

"I don't." Charlie exhaled sharply. "God, I'm beginning to regret this. I have _nothing_ on this guy. For all I know, he's perfectly nice and I just saw the dick side to him because that was what I wanted to see. I love Aaron too much to let him go, so maybe I kind of demonised his father in my own mind because I'm just desperate to find a reason to keep him."

"I wouldn't tell ya lawyer tha'," Sawyer said, looking alarmed. "Look, I don't really get all tha' law talk. Was never my scene. But what I do know, I learned from my uncle, an' he says the most important thing to do is keep up a confidence façade, so you look like ya know what ya talkin' about. The moment you let these nagging doubts interfere, the whole thing comes crashin' down."

Charlie looked at him appreciatively.

"Wow. That's actually really good advice, Sawyer. Thanks."

"Don't mention it – ever," Sawyer grunted. "I got my reasons for doin' all this, an' it ain't cause I got a soft spot for ya."

"Aw, shame," Charlie teased. "I thought we were building something special here. A kind of solidarity at least."

"The only kind of solidarity you'll be gettin' is my foot up your ass," Sawyer growled. "Let's cute the mushy crap, shall we? S'wearin' thin."

Charlie grinned, appreciating for the first time Sawyer's blunt honesty. He needed to hear the truth, even if it hurt like hell. He hated false hope, hated giving it. It was the same as lying in his book and, frankly, he just wanted this over. One way or the other.

* * *

_He was lugging up the last few of the boxes when he saw her sitting on the double bed, her knees drawn to her chest, her expression a mixture of worry and misery. Aaron was at his grandmother's so they'd not had any distractions whilst they'd began the arduous process of moving, but that didn't look like the reason Claire was so unhappy. _

_"Claire?" he said, putting the box he was carrying slowly on the ground. _

_She looked at him, her eyes a picture of worry and distress. Instinctively, he walked over to her and sat down next to her, unsure whether she needed physical contact or not. _

_"What's wrong, luv?" he asked, opting to put a light hand on her shoulder._

_"This. All of it," she confessed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "It reminds me of when I was putting drapes up in my old apartment."_

_"So?"_

_She gave him a meaningful look._

_"That was when Thomas broke up with me. Said he couldn't go through the pregnancy even though he was the one who talked me into it."_

_"Oh…" Charlie said slowly. "And you're thinking history is gonna repeat itself?"_

_"Well, can you blame me?" she asked, spreading her hands out. "Charlie, before you I was determined not to let another man go near me. I was about two steps shy of becoming a nun! I didn't even want to keep Aaron until being on that island forced me to do just that. And I wouldn't have had it any other way." She paused for breath. "I guess I'm just waiting for something to go wrong now that we've come so far."_

_"Define wrong."_

_"Well, something in this place could fall apart," Claire listed. "Or maybe we don't make rent one month and we get kicked out. Or the worst one…" She gulped. "You deciding this isn't the life for you. You getting up and walking out of here and not looking back. You cutting me out of your life completely."_

_"Claire…" Charlie began, anxious to alleviate her fears._

_"It scares the hell out of me, that idea," Claire informed him. "I've envisioned it in a million different ways, trying to mentally prepare myself for that scenario if it ever comes. Thomas left me. My father left me. The men in my life don't generally have a habit of sticking around."_

_She lowered her head, close to tears. Their dream was in tatters; she couldn't imagine him wanting to stick around to try and figure this mess out. But try as she did, she couldn't brace herself for the possibility he could walk out and leave her. It would break her, she just knew it._

_Before she knew it, he'd shuffled closer to her, putting an arm around her and kissing the side of her head._

_"That's silly," Charlie murmured against her ear. "Think about all I've done for you, Claire. I've done so many insane things for you, that just the idea of leaving you at the first sign of trouble is ridiculous. Do you remember what I promised you when we were at the caves after we got you back?"_

_Claire struggled to recall that dark period, not because she couldn't remember but because she was reluctant to remember the darker memories. She remembered Charlie staying with her all night, despite the fact she'd not remembered who he was, and even then had been astonished at the lengths he'd gone to try and help her._

_"I said I'd never leave you," Charlie continued. "And I won't. Even if the worst happens, and we end up on the street, well, I'd try and make a home for us all the same. Somehow, I dunno, you've managed to change my entire world. All I ask from you is to trust me and not to doubt me. I'll get us through this and any other problem we come across."_

_She felt herself crying at the same time a wide smile dawned on her face. She leaned her head against his, resting a hand against his cheek. _

_"Thank you," was all she could weakly muster._

_"We'll get through this together," Charlie whispered. "That was your saying I do believe?"_

_Claire let out a nervous titter._

_"I think so," she giggled. _

_"And so we shall. If I had a glass, I'd raise it and give some soppy speech like the sap I am, but as we've not unpacked the plastic cups, let's just be thankful we have each other and dry our tears, alright?" _

_"Our tears?" Claire questioned._

_"Yeah. I drove myself to tears with my own speech. Call it a gift…" Charlie bragged, earning him a playful punch on the arm from Claire. _

_"You're so cute when you try to be funny," she teased._

_"Try?" Charlie had picked up on the key word. "I am made of utter hilarity."_

_She laughed at his expression. He laughed too, noticing her button nose always scrunched up when she laughed. _

_It was these habits which made Claire who she was._

_It was these habits he would later miss with all his heart and soul._

* * *

"I'm only dragging out the inevitable here," Charlie realized gloomily, having resurfaced from the memories which had popped up out of nowhere. "I'm going to lose Aaron, and then return to whatever hole it was I'd crawled out of."

"Not necessarily," Sawyer reasoned. "Ya gotta at least believe ya have a chance. It's all about confidence…"

"No, it's not. It's about having a damn chance," Charlie snapped, pinching the ridge of his nose. "But maybe you're right. I've got to at least fight for him. He feels like my own son. I'd love it if he was. The fact that he's not due to some biological crap makes me so angry."

Sawyer couldn't really add anything at this point. Sensitive discussions were usually something he strived to avoid. He became cagey whenever he was dragged into one, and kept quiet, only uttering the odd sarcastic remark to keep up appearances. However, in this instances, he could kind of feel for Charlie. I mean, their lives all sucked one way or another – and he knew most of them, even if they wouldn't admit it, would've preferred to have stayed on the island, but to have everything you'd ever worked for to be taken away from you… well, it had to sting.

"So, what's ya next move?" he asked quietly.

"Bide my time," Charlie responded, looking worn and ragged. "This Mr Woodward guy suggests I try and dig for something that can prove this guy isn't worthy of being a father, without breaking the law obviously. But how can I do that? Lure him to my house and make him confess to a non-existent crime?" He shook his head. "I don't do crafty, or wily, or cunning. I can't be any of those things, not if I want to raise Aaron."

"You can't," Sawyer agreed, a smirk creeping across his features. "But I can."

Charlie raised his head, looking half hopeful and half wary.

"What do you mean?" he asked slowly.

"I'll try an' dig up some dirt on him," Sawyer clarified. "I mean, your lawyer doesn't know 'bout me – probably best – an' you clearly need help. I mean, look at ya…"

"Brilliant…"

"So, I think ya need someone on ya side. We don't make a half bad team, ya know."

"Yes, 'cause the last thing we partnered up on turned out _so_ well," Charlie muttered sarcastically.

"It worked, didn't it? We got the guns. An' if you hadn't grassed to Sun, we could've gotten away with it," Sawyer retorted.

"Yeah, well, even though I know you're the one to come to in situations where morality is thrown out the window, but I'd rather not do anything that'll put my case into jeopardy," Charlie muttered.

"I wouldn't do anythin' illegal. I'd jus' fish for information," Sawyer insisted. "I got people who owe me favours, so it's not like it's impossible."

"I dunno… I don't really even understand why you're even helping," Charlie admitted.

"Well, since I can sense an emotional discussion about a mile away, I'm jus' gonna assure you it's 'cause of Claire," Sawyer said gruffly. "I have no ulterior motive to screw you over, Charlie. If you don't believe anythin' else, believe that. We're not exactly dissimilar, you an' I."

"How'd you figure that one out?" Charlie asked quietly, amused.

"We both have done things we ain't proud of for one," Sawyer listed meaningfully. "An' we both have women we'd do anythin' for, but are lost to us, one way or another."

"You're talking about Kate?" Charlie realized.

"I never mentioned any names," Sawyer hastened to say. "My point is… Oh, screw it. Let's jus' say I have a soft spot for whining twerps like you."

Charlie rolled his eyes, but grinned.

Coming from Sawyer, that was the closest to a compliment he was ever going to get – and it didn't even sound like a compliment, more like an observation.

* * *

**A/n:** **Sorry for not updating in forever, but this is where it gets tricky. I know next to nothing about the law. So I'll have to do some research which sucks lol. If anyone can give me any pointers, just PM me because I have no idea where to even start lol, but I'll give it a crack. Thanks for all the reviews. They really keep me going!**


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